That Which Is Perfect Is Come
by LadyFangs
Summary: A de-aged Uhura/ Spock fic. An away mission goes wrong...
1. Chapter 1

A big thanks to the women of W/A and STCC- ya'll rock. Thanks to _SpockLikesCats_ and _Aphrodite420_ for beta work.

This is an S/U **FRIENDSHIP** fic only. Please don't read anything other than what's there. It CAN be viewed as a preamble to the S/U I later establish in "The Women He Loved". But again..**.FRIENDSHIP** only.

**Disclaimer: I do not own, I love. **

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"**That Which Is Perfect Is Come"  
**

Kirk stood expectantly at the base of the transporter pad waiting on his two senior officers to beam back up.

Spock and Uhura had been sent down as a precursor to his own arrival. They had been tasked with a fact-gathering mission on the Dantoue people. They were to make preliminary introductions with the Dantoue emissary and to arrange a meeting time between the ambassador and himself. A while ago he had received word that they were finalizing the plans and would beam up momentarily.

And now, here he was. An hour and a half later still waiting on his officers.

Finally, the communications console chirped.

"This is Spock. Request immediate beam up." The terseness of his first officer's message surprised him. But he didn't have time to process it because in the next moments the transporter began to glow as the soft blue and white swirling lights began to form the lean, familiar frame of the Vulcan.

He stepped forward and stopped, sharp brown eyes quickly scanning the image before him.

"Spock! Where's Uhura?" Kirk asked staring at the sole figure of his first officer on the transport pad. He was instantly aware that something had gone wrong. Two officers had beamed down...only one had come back up. Spock's science blue shirt was off, leaving him in the fitted black undershirt they all wore. He was striking in the all-black look, which mirrored an equally dark (and Kirk had to admit slightly intimidating) countenance. He stepped down from the transport pad, looking exceptionally grim.

"Captain, we have a problem," he replied shortly.

Before Kirk could even open his mouth to respond, his ears were greeted by a small, human cry coming from… he looked his first officer again- this time his eyes snapped instantly drawn to the tiny blue bundle in the crook of Spock's arm.

Cautiously he peeped over to look at what Spock was holding- and the blue fabric began to move to reveal a very, very, very small brown face.

Big brown eyes and a head full of curly black hair greeted him. The eyes met his, and instantly she began to wail.

He looked at his first officer, his own mind going blank.

"Yep. I'd say that's a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

**That Which is Perfect is Come**

**Chapter 2**

"_Yep. I'd say that's a problem"_

Spock had not been amused by his Captain's apparent attempt at making light of what he saw as a dire situation. And, carrying the infant Nyota Uhura in one arm, he began walking past the Captain en-route to sickbay.

She was still in tears, her high-pitched wails hitting his sensitive ears and causing him increasing discomfort. Mentally he noted that Vulcan children were not nearly as fussy, nor did they tend to… screech. This child's vocal range was truly astounding.

He rounded the corner quickly and was instantly at sickbay.

Uhura's wails grew louder and more plaintive as he set her down on the biobed nearby

Instantly Nurse Chapel rushed over to him.

"Mr. Spock!"

"Where is Dr. McCoy?" He abruptly cut off her inquiry. He could tell she was greatly curious about the child and he was in no mood to entertain questions. Especially those he had no answers for.

"What the hell is that racket?" The doctor emerged from his back office, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of his head nurse, a semi shirtless Vulcan and a small, human child on the biobed.

"My God, man, what the hell have you done now?"

McCoy rushed over to the bed, medical scanner in hand just as Kirk appeared in the doorway.

Everyone began talking at once.

"Mr. Spock what happened?"

"Who is this child?"

"She's such beautiful little girl!"

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

His already sensitive hearing was inundated with the cacophonous sounds around him seemingly magnified by reverberations off Sickbay's walls. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

The sounds seemed to grow louder and suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore.

He raised one hand for silence.

Instantly, all the voices dropped- except for the now screaming child.

Somewhat mollified if not completely satisfied, he began to address the circle of people around him, starting with McCoy.

"Doctor, Captain, _This _is Lieutenant Uhura." He waved one hand towards the tiny figure on the biobed.

"We were finishing the meeting with the Dantoue emissary and were preparing to depart when a server came before us with a platter of Dantouean vegetables. Though I did not ingest any of them Miss Uhura did, and upon leaving the emissary's company she began to complain of nausea and light headed-ness.

We stopped several times for her to rest as we moved to our transporter coordinates and upon our arrival there, she began to…regress. First mentally, and then physically as well. Thus leaving the…_infant _you see before us."

McCoy had finished his scans and was now hunched over the computer looking at the results while the captain paced up and down the bay.

Nurse Chapel had scooped little Nyota up and was cooing at her. The infant had quieted and was staring up in apparent confusion at the blonde-haired nurse.

"So what are we supposed to do Bones? She can't remain in this state forever!" Kirk exclaimed. His initial humor at the situation had almost worn off.

He turned to his first officer.

"Spock, how old is she?"

"I estimate that the Lieutenant is approximately 3.4 months old."

"Actually Spock," McCoy had finally looked up from the screen in front of him, its greenish flicker casting a shadow about his face, "She's three months and four days old."

He delivered the news matter-of-factly and Spock felt his displeasure grow at the thought.

"Christ! You're telling my chief communications officer is practically a newborn!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Jim. Spock, can you contact the Dantoueans? We need to know long this will last and if she'll have lingering effects. Then we'll decide what to do about this. I hope to God it isn't permanent." McCoy's last words caused the room to go silent- and Spock could feel the collective worry around him.

Even he had not stopped to think about the implications of a permanently de-aged Uhura. As far as he knew, she had no family. Who would raise her? He pushed the troublesome thoughts out of his mind and left the sickbay.

The child caught sight of his retreating back and began to whimper in Nurse Chapel's arms.

"Spock I'm coming with you." Kirk moved quickly to match his stride and they left. The sounds of tiny cries ringing plaintively in his ears as the Nurse worked to quiet them.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note:** Thanks people. I must say I am quite surprised at the reception on this- I know its WAAAYY out of my usual tone and scope for a fic. For those of you who want to know the inspiration- a drunken dream. Simple as that. Don't know how or why...blame it on the alcohol. And those who love Spock in the black tee...Naked Time (and that's all I say on that). _

**

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That Which Is Perfect Is Come**

**Chapter 3**

The captain had gotten exceptionally incensed during the conversation with Dantoue's emissary. After listening to the Dantoueans laugh about the situation, they were finally able to get a medical professional on the line.

The doctor told them that Uhura's condition could last between three days and three months, and that her return would be a swift and sudden change.

Apparently the vegetable she had ingested had no effect on the Dantoueans…but caused regression in other species.

It would make for a fascinating medical study and Spock's scientific mind found itself pondering the thought. But he quickly pushed it away. Their priority now was tending to the infant.

As they made their way back down to Sickbay to deliver the news Kirk spoke up.

"Spock, Communications needs Lieutenant Uhura in charge. The Doctor said her change would come suddenly. Who's supposed to watch over her?

They rounded the corner and upon closer arrival to Sickbay, baby wails once again hit Spock's ears. He grimaced as they moved past curious crewmen who kept casting looks at the med bay doors.

No doubt rumor of the lieutenant's condition had begun to travel quickly throughout the ship.

The doors swooshed open to the sight of Nurse Chapel attempting to change the child's diaper. But it seemed Uhura had other ideas as she attempted to wriggle out of the Nurse's grasp.

Chapel expertly caught both feet and lifted the babe into the air and Spock, in deference to the adult Uhura's modesty, turned away and began explaining the situation to the doctor.

Now relieved that the situation was not permanent he turned and moved to retrieve his science shirt.

But there seemed to be a small problem.

Freshly changed, Uhura was lying belly-down on the soft blue fabric, curled up into a ball. He attempted to retrieve the garment from her, and as he moved her gently away, she began to cry yet again.

He was puzzled, and stopped.

Her cries subsided and she was content again.

This time Spock tried another tactic to retrieve his shirt. Carefully placing his hand on her tiny back, he was careful not to come into skin-to-skin contact with her. The child seemed to enjoy the warmth and tried to roll over.

As she moved he expertly slid the shirt from under her. She did not seem to notice.

But, when he removed his hand from her person, she began to wail.

Nurse Chapel moved back over and scooped her up in her arms and began to rock her and make shushing noises, but to no avail, as Uhura continued to cry, her eyes bright with tears.

Spock quickly slid the shirt back over his head and moved out of Sickbay, the plaintive cries echoing in his ears.

***

Hours later Spock was logging out of his terminal and preparing to go off shift. After the initial activity of the morning, they had successfully set up a meeting between the Dantoueans and the Terran ambassador. It would be held later in the month. Their job was finished here.

And he was in need of meditation.

As he moved to exit the bridge the captain turned to him, smiling tiredly.

"Turning in, Spock?"

" I am, Captain, he replied, placing his hands behind his back.

"I can't wait to hit my bed. It's been a heck of a day, that's for sure."

"I concur."

"Alright Spock. Have a good evening." Kirk swiveled back around and Spock proceeded to the turbo lift.

He rode down and began walking towards his quarters. But before he entered, he decided to re-route and stop by Sickbay to check on the Lieutenants progress.

As he moved towards the medical suite he found it was quiet.

The doors swooshed open and he stepped into the bright sterile room.

He was no more than two steps in when he heard the tell-tale hiccups and sighs that could only mean…

"WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

At the first wail he saw Nurse Chapel shoot across the room in a blue blur. Where she had come from he had no idea as he began to follow in the direction she had gone and the wails he heard.

McCoy had come out of his office, muttering a string of curses under his breath. He looked up and saw the Vulcan standing stiffly by the door.

"I don't know what happened Doctor. She had finally settled down. I don't know why she's so worked up," Chapel's normally elegant appearance was now in slight disarray and she looked frazzled as she scooped the baby up and began to rock her gently.

Uhura only screamed louder.

As Chapel turned her back on them Uhura's eyes fell to Spock, and instantly she stopped crying.

He looked at the child.

Chapel turned back around and she was once again facing away from him. The wails began again.

McCoy had been watching.

"Nurse Chapel, turn back around and come closer to us," he ordered.

Holding the baby over her shoulder the nurse began walking slowly backwards, looking over her other shoulder to ensure she didn't fall.

Uhura was quiet, her bright eyes glued on the Vulcan.

"Now, lower her into your arms and keep her so that she can see us the whole time." McCoy pointed at himself and Spock and the nurse nodded and lowered the infant into her arms.

Now Spock found himself staring down at her.

Bright eyes met his and he cocked his head to the side. She really was an aesthetically pleasing youngling. if a bit noisy.

"Well I'll be damned." McCoy moved away out of the child's line of sight and still, no cries.

"Spock…"

"His head snapped up as he trained his eyes on the doctor.

"I think she likes _you_."

He found that he did not like the implications behind McCoy's and Chapel's twin grins nor the look that passed between them.


	4. Chapter 4

"**That Which is Perfect is Come"**

**Chapter 4**

"Here Spock hold her head…no! Not like that! Like this."

He was standing awkwardly his arms out-stretched in front of him with a handful of baby. The doctor was attempting to get him to hold her closer to his body, but the thought made him distinctly uncomfortable.

The infant was staring at him in wide-eyed wonder and he looked back at her raising one eyebrow.

"Spock! You can't hold a child like that. Give her here."

McCoy reached for her and the instant she lost eye contact with Spock, she began to cry again.

"Oh no. You can't go with the Vulcan." McCoy had placed her over his shoulder and was rubbing her back as Spock watched him pace around Sickbay.

Inwardly he was relieved.

But the plaintive sobs stopped his feet from moving.

Her cries grew louder, and although he knew it was illogical…somehow he felt…_guilty_. He was finding the cries harder and harder to resist.

Especially when he now knew he was the cause of the infant's tears.

Knowing he would regret his next decision he stepped forward to the doctor.

"Doctor McCoy, if I may?"

Spock ignored the look of incredulity that flitted across the doctor's face as he wordlessly handed the child over. This time Spock cradled the child in the crook of his arm and moved to sit down as she burrowed her tiny face into his shoulder.

Her weight was so minimal he had an initial flash of fear that he would inadvertently toss her, but logic quickly took over and he adjusted himself to ensure the child did not come to harm.

Now he sat watching the child cradled in arms. She was contently cooing up at him as he gazed upon her face.

She flashed a toothless smile at his stern face and in the next moment her bright eyes squinched closed and the little mouth opened into a yawing O.

Apparently, she had just gotten quite comfortable.

He watched as she fell into sleep.

Rising, he moved to where McCoy was standing with a wide smile across his face.

The doctor had his hands clasped behind his back and was rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Doctor, she is now resting. Where should I place her so that I may take my leave?" he asked calmly.

"Oh no you don't Spock. She likes you. She was a holy terror when we tried to put her to bed earlier and as soon as you came into the vicinity those eyes popped right open. When you're out of sight, she cries. So in my medical opinion…" McCoy's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"She's yours."

"I must disagree with the implications of ownership Doctor for I have no biological offspring. Therefore the Lieutenant is not 'mine' and surely your suggestion that she remain in my care is in the form of human jest- I must remind you, doctor, the complexity of human pranks escapes me."

His dry tone only added to McCoy's laughter.

At once though, the high guffaws subsided as he saw the look on the Vulcan's face.

"Spock, seriously. She really responds to you. She's a human infant, and bonding is a crucial part of child development, as is imprinting. I think she's done that with you. You were the first being she saw after her physical change and she is attached. I think it would help expedite her return to her normal self if she stayed with you in the evenings."

Despite his better mind, he could not fault the doctor's logic. As much as the idea discomfited him, the Lieutenant's care _was _paramount.

He repressed an un-Vulcan-like sigh.

"Very well Doctor. Your logic is sound. I will need a place for the child to sleep. And what are her nutritional requirements?

McCoy beamed and began moving quickly around medical bay, loading something that looked to Spock, suspiciously like a diaper bag.

He got a strange feeling in his stomach as the implications of what he'd just agreed to sank in. Quickly he moved into the man's path- stopping him before McCoy could place anything more in the bag.

"Doctor, I shall feed her in the evenings. But I must draw the line at changing diapers."


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I am glad everyone is enjoying this. I had not intended for this to be as "fluffy" as it turned out, so I understand if it gives anyone a cavity. The entire story has been written, and I will finish the last two chapters Monday and Tuesday (because I don't work on the weekends). Have a happy Friday folks!_

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"**That Which Is Perfect Is Come"**

**Chapter 5  
**

It had been eight days, six hours and fifty seven minutes and …seven, now- eight, seconds since the day of Lieutenant Uhura's transformation. And every single night since she had spent in Spock's quarters.

The medical staff had wheeled an incubator into his quarters for the child to sleep in, as it had been mutually agreed that her size and age made it imperative that she remain warm and not subject to falling.

Spock, Doctor McCoy, Captain Kirk and Nurse Chapel had all ventured to guess when the Lieutenant would return to her adult self- as they had been told it could be as little as three days or three weeks. But after the first three days of her situation, they had all given up guessing. She had remained in an infantile state.

After Spock had acquiesced to the Doctor's logic on the matter, Lieutenant Uhura had begun spending the night in his quarters. And it was during their evening hours- he as acting "parent"- that he began to discover that human infants were highly demanding.

Every two hours the child needed to be fed. After feedings came changings- which Spock simply refused to do. He felt such a thing was improper- both for him as a Vulcan tending to a child who was not his; and as a violation of the Lieutenant's privacy. And so, after feeding time he would take her to Sickbay to be changed.

He disliked the looks he received while carrying Uhura through the passageways. The attention paid to the child was unnecessary, he believed, for surely infant-hood was merely a natural stage in development.

And he grew especially disgruntled at the female crew members- most of who tried to stop him and "coo" at the baby.

The practice of "cooing" from the adult members of the species disturbed him on a level that he truly did not want to even contemplate…he could acknowledge his own species' primal and often violent background- however humans…were little more than the adult version of the child in his arms. The ship was being run by infants in mature bodies.

When he had inquired about the practice and the human females' behavior, both the doctor and the nurse had laughed. Nurse Chapel had explained to him that human women tended to find males with infants an attractor- and seeing infants tended to make a female yearn for them. Seeing both the male and infant together signaled the male had the potential to be a good mate based on his level of concern for his charge.

At that explanation Spock had abruptly exited the Sickbay with the lieutenant on his shoulder and moved as quickly as possible to his quarters.

Aside from being fussy when she was either wet or hungry, the child proved to be a most enjoyable companion.

He found that when she was not hungry or wet, she slept. While she was sleeping, Spock used the time to meditate. As a Vulcan, even a half-Vulcan, he required very little rest.

And so, after ensuring her optimal respiratory function in the evening, he settled himself down in front of his fire pot to meditate.

During these times he often pondered on how he had come to be the child's caregiver.

He had chosen Lieutenant Uhura to come along on the away mission and to greet the Dantouean emissary. Her bright smile and easy manner had always been a delight on the bridge, and, added to her sharp intelligence and witty humor, were just a few of her excellent qualities.

As Chief Communications officer she was brilliant- proficient in most known federation languages, and a leading pioneer in researching Dantouean verb conjugation. He had known that she was working on a paper about the Dantouean vernacular and felt the mission would aid in her research.

In the eight days following her transformation there had been several other rotating communications officers at her post.

At several points in the days that followed, the Captain, Sulu and Chekov had all caught themselves about to address the officer at the comm. Station as Uhura.

Though he did not verbally make the same mistake, he too noticed that her replacements did not hold the same professional attitude or work ethic- and made several errors in transmissions. It was a wholly inefficient system.

But there was nothing they could do to expedite her change. It would come when it was time. _Kaiidth. _It was the Vulcan way.

Slowly easing his way out of meditation he rose to check on the child. His tall frame approached the incubator silently, and he peered down at the tiny body that could easily fit in one of his hands.

She was breathing evenly.

The dim golden glow of the incubator lights shone about her face, and caused her curly black hair to shine. Long lashes flitted in the midst of REM sleep.

And for a moment- and only a moment- Spock remembered the images of cherubs he had seen in the paintings of Michelangelo. She looked exactly like one, with the exception of her sun-kissed brown skin and hair. But the same halos the cherubs bore about their head, was upon her as if a crown.

It was a purely instinctive reaction, he would later tell himself, that made him reach out a hand, and gently caress the side of her little face- a motion that Vulcan parents used to calm their children.

The baby's eyes stilled and she exhaled a soft breath.

And in that moment he felt a swell of emotion he could not quite place…he felt…_full_, a sense of serenity he had seldom experienced settling like a warm blanket upon his person. And he realized he was still touching the baby's face.


	6. Chapter 6

"**That Which Is Perfect Is Come"**

**Chapter 6**

It was in her third week of being in his charge when he was alerted that something was wrong.

He had the child on a sleeping and feeding schedule- ensuring maximum development of her physical state. However, as he came out of his nightly meditation- he did not hear her. In fact, he heard nothing.

Panicked, he jump up from his position in front of the fire pot and moved quickly to the incubator.

"Light's 70-percent"

As he moved towards the child his alarm grew and he knew something was amiss.

Leaning over the small bed, his fears were confirmed and he gave in to un-Vulcan like panic.

The little body was barely breathing and her normally healthy glow had become somewhat ashen.

He quickly picked her up and could tell that she was running a fever.

He did not stop to change out of his meditation clothes and quickly moved out of the room. He was down the hall and entering med bay before even he had a moment to process his own actions.

The sight of a tall Vulcan in all black carrying an infant moved the staff from curiosity to alarm as they took in her appearance and calls were made to Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel as one of the Nurses carefully removed the babe from his person and quickly moved her away.

All at once he found himself outside the circle of attention as the staff began to run diagnostics, yet his heart began to palpitate as he realized that throughout all the noise the babe had not stirred.

Suddenly the doors to the bay flew open as McCoy, Chapel and Captain Kirk all burst through at once.

"Where is she? Move Aside!"

"My God what happened!"

"Spock—"

He found himself pushed out of the way as McCoy whipped out his tricorder and began running diagnostics on the child; he felt as if he were watching the scene unfold from a place outside himself.

Slowly he turned around and moved away from where the staff was working, trying to reign in the tumult of emotions he was currently experiencing.

Psychologically he realized that the child's sickness was not his fault. However the fact that she had fallen ill under his charge disturbed him emotionally.

To lose a competent officer- no, a child…so young…The reality of the Lieutenant's situation became startlingly, blindingly and painfully clear to him.

They had all somewhat delighted in having a small human child on board, and with the reassurance that she would eventually return to her adult self, no one had given much credence to the fact that she was afflicted. Her condition had not been treated as an illness, but as a slight novelty- and the thought angered him, as he knew that he was guilty of it too.

There had been nothing for him to do in sickbay and he had retreated back to his quarters.

Now he sat at his table, fingers steepled in front of him, ignoring the now-empty, incubator situated to the side.

His room felt…empty. Devoid of life. It was as if the small flame of that human emotion called joy had flickered and gone out.

He was…in turmoil.

The door chimed for admittance, startling him out of his contemplations. His internal clock registered 0400 hours.

Two hours had passed since he had taken the child to sickbay.

He rose, placing his hands behind his back.

"Enter."

The doors swooshed open and the Captain came in.

There were tired circles around his eyes and his shoulders were hunched as he entered.

Spock mentally prepared himself for the worst.

"McCoy has her stable" Kirk said, almost absently as he moved past Spock and sunk himself in the chair.

The Vulcan exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Yet still, he had many questions…

"Does the Doctor know what caused her illness?"

He believed his tone to be impassive, and yet knew a sliver of what he was feeling internally had seeped into his words as he felt the captain's eyes on him.

"You want to know if it was your fault Spock."

He chose to ignore the question, and both men once again felt silent.

"You know…the Dantoueans said this could last up to three months… and yet I don't think I ever really believed….I mean…everyone is so happy with a baby on board. And before you say its illogical Spock- children bring joy. They are pure and innocent. Not tainted by the troubles of the world. That's what she is now. Hell…that's what she is even in her adult state…"

Spock maintained his own silence. Though the captain had spoken much of his own thoughts aloud.

Judging from his lack of response, the Captain seemed to decide to leave.

He turned and clasped one hand on Spock's shoulder, looking him in the eye.

"It's not your fault Spock. McCoy is with her in sickbay. You can go see her."

He turned and left.

Once the doors swooshed closed again Spock turned and moved towards his meditation chamber.

Though he too knew he had done everything within his own ability to keep the child safe…and such had been confirmed by the Captain…

The guilt still wore upon him.

***

His shift had ended several hours ago. And it was in the wee hours of the next morning when he finally decided to venture to sick bay.

The halls were deserted as he knew they would be. Most of the crew would be resting now.

Steadily he made his way down the hall, at his normal place. He approached the doors and they swooshed open in acceptance.

The bay itself was humming with the mechanical sounds of sensitive life-saving instruments. The lights had been dimmed and a cool blue glow cast shadows across the white walls and surfaces of the room.

Yet, he noticed none of these things as he walked into sickbay, his eyes automatically focusing in on the soft glowing yellow lights in the far corner.

He walked over to the sight slowly, his own hands trembling slightly behind his back. Mentally he prepared himself for the worst, however he was still unprepared for the sight

The babe lay in the incubator, surrounded by various tubes attached to her.

Her little chest heaved with the struggle just to breathe and she was impossibly small.

Something within him broke, and he turned away, preparing to leave before his control gave way completely.

He was almost out of the area when a voice called out to him.

"Spock"

He carefully schooled his face into its usual impassive mask as he turned.

"Doctor."

McCoy looked worse for wear.

His face was drawn and tight, and his eyes were tired.

He moved towards where the infant lay, allowing himself to look upon her tiny frame.

Silence hung between them.

"You know Spock…I always thought you had some feeling buried under that ice-box you call a heart. But I didn't truly believe it…until now. I admit…I was…angry at you. Especially when you brought her in but…It wasn't your fault."

The doctor's words did nothing to move him. And he offered none in response. Somehow, though McCoy seemed to be speaking to him…he felt that the Doctor was not looking for a response. He opted for silence.

"This kid…" His voice choked up. "She's a fighter."

Finally, he found his voice.

"Doctor, if I may inquire—"

McCoy turned on him, his voice tight with grief.

"I should have known but I didn't. We ran all these damn tests to ensure she was healthy…But I didn't' stop to check to make sure her immunizations were up to date. I mean…she's had them before and…"

"Doctor…"

"A cold Spock! She damn near died from the single thing we STILL can't cure and the one thing I didn't think to immunize her against!"

McCoy turned away from him then as silence once again fell between them.

It was an awkward situation; One that he was wholly unfamiliar with. Attempts at human comfort had always ended badly for him, still, he stepped forward.

"Doctor. Your actions today have saved the Lieutenant's life. As a Vulcan I can assure you there is no greater thing that we hold in regard than life. It is fleeting thing and should be cherished. You are a most gifted healer. And for your skill I am sure the Lieutenant would say….thank you."

He watched as the doctor looked up, his face flush with surprise. A look of silent understanding passed between them and they nodded at one another as McCoy moved back to his office and closed the door.

He was once again alone in the Medical Bay.

Slowly he walked back to the incubator to look upon the child.

Life. It was indeed a most precious and fleeting thing.

Hesitantly he reached out a hand to her, his fingers lightly brushing against the soft black curls gracing her forehead.

She sighed and twitched slightly at his touch.

Tilting his head, he gently brushed a finger alongside her tiny face as she turned into his touch.

He once again felt the warm feeling of contentment settle upon him as he did the last time he had come into contact with her skin.

And he realized that the warmth and…joy he felt…had radiated from the baby.

As he cupped her little head in the palm of his hand…he felt his own heart rate speed up…as he was once again greeted by the flitting motion of thick eyelashes…and ultimately big brown eyes…

Relief flooded through him…as she began to wail…

A sound that was now melodious to his ears.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: **I would like to extend a Thank you to the women at Writer's Anonymous and the STCC Writer's Guild. To everyone who read and reviewed, thank you very much. I am working on the last chapter of "The Women He Loved" and it should be updated...soon. There's also a new work coming "Alekhine's Gun" which will be my attempt at a Sarek/ Amanda fic. _

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"**That Which is Perfect is Come"**

**Chapter 7  
**

Uhura had spent two weeks in sickbay recovering from her illness, and everyday Spock, Doctor McCoy and the Captain were there standing vigil.

They were never there all at once, lest one seem partial to the child, but still they were there.

The Captain came in the mornings, before his shift and would sit a while by the baby. Sometimes she would awaken and greet him with the blinking of her eyes and would grab hold of his finger when he extended it. She didn't cry now when he was near her, and he was relieved. For awhile he felt, maybe illogically, that she did not like him.

Doctor McCoy ran the sickbay, and was there during the day. He pretended to not pay attention to the baby in the corner, however his staff would catch him every so often venturing over to the incubator. Some would even say they saw the craggy doctor smile at her.

The babe would at times, smile back.

But it was only at the end of the day, when Spock arrived, when she became truly animated. He would enter in his usual stance, give a nod of acknowledgment to the staff, then proceed to walk over to the incubator.

He did not touch the child, but simply observed her. When she was asleep, she would sigh a bit, and roll over in his direction. However, when she was awake, she would smile, and coo at him and attempt to reach out to him.

He would often cock his head to the side. And though he never smiled, it seemed as if he understood the babe perfectly.

Of course, Nurse Chapel saw all these things. As Head Nurse, most of the direct care of the Lieutenant had fallen to her.

As she went about her duties she would often see each of the command staff at various points come in and out of sickbay, and she would smile to herself as she gave them space.

Three men and a baby. That's exactly what they were.

She chuckled to herself as she moved across the bay and away from the incubator, where their Chief Science Officer stood.

Lieutenant Uhura had them all wrapped around her little finger- whether she knew it or not.

***

It was her seventh week of being in an infantile state when she was allowed to come back to Spock's quarters.

He once again walked down the halls of the Enterprise, the child cradled in the crook of his arm.

She had grown a bit, and gained some weight and for that he was grateful. Her previously healthy glow had returned and she proved to be quite lively as well.

Apparently, the child was happy to be out of sickbay- for that he could not fault her, as he was not particularly fond of Doctor McCoy's medical facilities either.

Prior to taking Nyota out of sickbay the good doctor had remarked her growth was a sign that she would soon return to her regular self.

He found the news both a relief and a disappointment.

Walking into his quarters he proceeded to prepare the child for slumber. Her formula was exact- and he measured it accordingly.

She had been bathed and changed by Nurse Chapel and was already in her slumbering attire- to his great relief.

He briefly lay the child on his bed while he moved to warm the formula. While it was heating he lit the fire pot, allowing the glow from the flame to flicker throughout the room.

While most humans preferred bright light, he was most comfortable in muted hues.

He walked back to the bed looking down.

She was now four months old, and the signs of her adult personality were beginning to emerge.

She could sit up, something he was eternally grateful for. And she could also babble.

Though he did not speak her language, he could judge from the sounds of her voice that she was pleased.

And it pleased him.

She seemed quite comfortable in his bed, and after her feeding, she rolled over and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. She reached a little hand to his and he gave in and allowed her to grab hold of his finger.

In the seven weeks she had been in this state the infant had become strongly attached to him. He had resisted her affections at first- thinking himself completely inept at the task of caring for human young.

However she had...made an impression on him.

Truth be told...Spock was…exhausted. He had a new appreciation for parents- and vowed to never himself become one.

He proceeded to lay opposite the child, watching her little body heave up and down evenly as she finally fell asleep.

Now in the space and quiet, he had time to contemplate of the small life before him that was little Miss Uhura.

It had been the Lieutenant who had befriended him. It was she who he had mentored and enlightened- the first person to show genuine interest in Vulcan culture- not as a novelty, but with a genuine desire to learn.

It was this tiny infant...who...as an adult he had assisted, when the probe Nomad had stolen her mind from her, taking with it the knowledge he had worked with her daily to help her re-learn.

This same infant sang to him as a woman- one of the few who was not intimidated by him and showed him human kindness and affection.

The same woman he tended to pick up when she was tossed about the ship- he was there to catch her when she fell…

And now, as he began to recall their moments together he found himself newly-enlightened...this tiny baby with thick curls and big brown eyes, was the same woman that he called _friend_.

He leaned down close to her and whispered into her ear...

The baby made a wispy sigh, but otherwise did not move and Spock rose and resigned himself to meditate for the evening...making sure to keep an ear out for any signs of distress...

***

His eyes opened at 0400 hours- well past Nyota's feeding time.

He had not heard any sounds and was instantly up and moving quickly towards the bed chamber in which she slept.

He was...anxious...

Upon entering however, he stopped. His mind registered shock that he quickly worked to contain.

_Nyota..._

Instead of the little infant he had left there the night before, fast asleep in his bed was a full adult woman.

A head full of thick black hair spilled out around his immaculate white sheets...surrounding a lovely brown face like a halo.

The soft white the fabric of his sheets now graced and teased the outline of sensuous curves and crests… barely covering her most intimate parts.

Her breasts heaved, barely covered…

And she was still asleep.

Spock quickly turned and exited...somewhat abashed to have witnessed her in such an unclothed state.

The baby he knew was no longer...and he would have to reconcile the infant he had tended...with the woman now gracing his bed.

**-THE END-**

**1****Corinthians 13:9-13**

_**9**__ For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. __**10**__ But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. __**11**__ When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. __**12**__ For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. __**13**__ And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity._

_**KJV**_


End file.
